More than thirty years after the death of guitarist and songwriter Toy Caldwell, the songs he wrote for the Marshall Tucker Band are still pulling people in. Drummer Paul T. Riddle has made it his mission to make sure that legacy doesn't fade — and he's doing it with one of the most impressive collections of talent in the Americana world.

Caldwell wrote the band's most enduring songs, including "Can't You See" from their 1973 debut. Even the band's name has a story — it came from a keychain found in their rehearsal warehouse, belonging to a local piano tuner from Spartanburg, South Carolina who had no idea a rock band had borrowed his identity.

"His songs are just honest. When you would hear Toy sing that song, he would just sing it like he was never going to take another breath." — Paul T. Riddle

Riddle's new vehicle, the Toy Factory Project, reimagines Caldwell's arrangements — swapping the original flute and saxophone for violin and Hammond B-3 organ — with a lineup featuring Marcus King, Blackberry Smoke's Charlie Starr, Oteil Burbridge, and Josh Shilling. Recorded at Peter Frampton's Nashville studio with guest appearances from Frampton, Derek Trucks, and Vince Gill, the album is set for release this year.

"We're not a tribute band," Riddle is clear to say. "We are honoring these songs, not copying them." The Toy Factory Project made their live debut at the Telluride Bluegrass Festival and are set for appearances including DelFest this coming May.

January 2026 marked forty years since the death of Phil Lynott. To mark the occasion, Classic Rock sat down with Thin Lizzy guitarist Scott Gorham — the man who knew him better than almost anyone — for a sweeping, deeply personal look back at one of rock's great partnerships.

Gorham's first meeting with Lynott is the stuff of legend: arriving at an African restaurant in West Hampstead for his audition, he mistook the tall, magnetic frontman for a waiter. He was guitar player number twenty-five that day. He got the gig.

"My first impression of Phil was that he had an absolutely magnetic personality. Everything gravitated towards him." — Scott Gorham

What follows is an unvarnished account of the band's rise — from near-constant fear that it would never happen, to the worldwide explosion of "The Boys Are Back In Town" — and its painful end. Gorham is frank about the drugs that were consuming both of them by the early 1980s, and about begging Lynott to walk away before it was too late. Phil wouldn't hear it.

"There's the old saying that time heals all wounds," Gorham says. "To a certain degree that's true, but not completely. Even forty years later, I often find myself thinking about him." He adds, with quiet certainty: "I do know that Phil would be so proud that the legend of Thin Lizzy lives on."